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No, that inner voice said. No!
Evin rose abruptly. "I'm off to bed. You'd best be getting some sleep, too."
"Probably." Except that I wasn't sleepy. "But I think I'll watch TV for a little bit."
He shrugged, gave me a sketchy wave goodnight, then disappeared into his bedroom. I leaned across to the sofa and grabbed the remote, idly flipping channels and trying to find something decent on. The news and the shopping channel were about as interesting as it got.
I threw the remote back on the sofa, then got up and made myself a cup of coffee.
What I needed, I thought, as I wrapped my fingers around the mug and leaned back against the counter, was a laptop. With it, I could do some investigating of my own. At the very least, I could do a search for that other murder I was half remembering and uncover whether it was real or just a figment of my twisted imagination.
There wasn't anything resembling a laptop in the main living room, and I couldn't remember seeing one in my bedroom. But Evin might have one. It was worth asking, anyway.
"Hey, bro," I said, not bothering to raise my voice. He'd hear me if he was awake, and given he'd only just gone to bed, I doubted he'd be asleep yet.
"What?" he said, sounding less than pleased.
"Have you got a laptop with you?"
"Why?"
That definitely sounded like something my brother would say. "Because I want to do a search for a killing similar to the one we found today."
"Why don't you just let the police do their fucking job and drop the matter?"
Because keeping my mind busy keeps the pain and the anguish at bay, that little voice said. But I couldn't -
wouldn't - admit something like that to Evin.
"Because I'm curious, that's why. I just want to know if there was another killing elsewhere, or whether I'm simply imagining it."
"What does it matter if there was?" Footsteps echoed lightly. He might be arguing, but he was getting up, which meant he did indeed have a laptop.
"It doesn't matter, but it will solve my curiosity."
"You know the old saying about curiosity and the cat," he said, as he entered the living area with the laptop tucked under one arm.
"Then it's just as well I'm a werewolf, isn't it?"
He snorted softly. "And I'm guessing that if I didn't have a laptop, you'd just go out and find yourself one."
I grinned. "You're learning, little brother."
"I certainly am," he muttered, and handed me the computer. "Promise me you'll drop the matter if you don't find anything."
"If I don't find anything, I will."
"And if you do find something, talk to Harris. Let him handle it."
"I'll talk to Harris." Whether I let him handle it without sticking my nose in it was another thing entirely.
Evin grunted and half turned away, then paused. "Why is this so important to you?"
"I don't know," I said, honestly enough. "It just feels like unfinished business, for some reason."
He shook his head. "Hanna, we work security for the pack. We roam boundaries and keep rabble off pack lands. Murder, in any way, shape, or form, does not enter our realm of experience."
I worked for the pack? That seemed so damn unlikely that laughter bubbled up inside of me. It didn't escape, but only because of an extreme effort of will.
